


Borrowed Freedom

by samanthalo



Category: Frozen (2013)
Genre: Elsa and Anna sister fluff, Gen, Implied Kristanna, Who didn't like Anna's fjord pony?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-09
Updated: 2014-03-09
Packaged: 2018-01-15 02:36:19
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,333
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1288078
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/samanthalo/pseuds/samanthalo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>'In riding a horse, we borrow freedom.' - Pam Thompson<br/>Anna has had three ponies in her short life, all of them dearly loved and two sorely missed.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Borrowed Freedom

Anna has had three ponies in her short life, all of them dearly loved and two sorely missed.

The first is a little Halflinger named Hoppy. She's presented Hoppy for her fifth birthday, shortly before her dream about being kissed by a troll, and she loves him immediately. He's small for a Halflinger, but only in stature. When her father picks her up and sets her down in Hoppy's saddle, her little legs stick almost straight out from his barrel belly. They all get a good laugh from it, except Anna. She kicks and struggles but can't seem to find a way to make Hoppy go. He snorts and pulls against the reins to seek out the nearest patch of grass. Papa tells her to make a clucking sound, a sharp click with her tongue against her teeth. Hoppy's ears twitch and he reluctantly ambles forward into a small circle that has Anna itching for more.

The stable master gives her lessons on warm Saturday afternoons. A makeshift ring is quickly fashioned in the backyard, between the palace and its tall walls. It's not a very big ring, but its enough for them. The stable master stands just beyond the fence and issues gentle but firm commands. Papa and Mama watch from the patio. They quickly discover that Hoppy is not a very good lesson horse. He is fat and stubborn. He knows only one speed and that is a slow, halting walk, unless it is feeding time. When grain is concerned, Hoppy can manage a rather peppy little trot, even sometimes a jaunty lope. Never under saddle, though. Under saddle he is a perfect (albeit lazy) gentleman. Anna learns his little quirks, his ticks, how she can best get him to walk continuously, how to get him to take more than two steps backwards. The stable master's commands become fewer and farther between until he's simply attending her lessons as a formality rather than a necessity.

“It seems the Princess is a natural.” He remarks up to the King one autumn afternoon after Anna had shown them a new trick. She ambles Hoppy around a couple of barrels and over an extremely low crossbar. The old pony champs lazily at his bit and snorts when she lets him rest, raising her hands up for approval.

“Yes, so it seems.” Papa remarks. He draws off of his shining bone pipe and looks to his wife. Mama raises an eyebrow and shakes her head somewhat resigned. “Perhaps its time you try a horse that will prove a bit more of a challenge.”

Anna is both excited and sad. She loves Hoppy, even if he is slow and fat, even if he tends to nip at the soft backs of her legs when she's brushing him and cleaning his hooves. She cries into his thick mane when untacking him. Hoppy is unfazed. He munches his hay as if she isn't sobbing openly into his massive neck.

“I'll always love you, Hoppy.” She sniffs. “Even when I'm too big to ride you, I promise to always bring you peppermints and take you for walks out in the meadows.”

Hoppy is retired to pasture with other ponies, goats and sheep in the village and Anna is presented an older gelding without a name.

“He doesn't have a name?” She asks in astonishment when the stable master introduces them. Like Hoppy, this horse isn't very interested in her. He sits with his head in his hay bag, looking up only when she kicks the stall door in an attempt to see him better in the dim light. He's much bigger than Hoppy. Anna eyes the muscles gleaming beneath his black coat with slight trepidation.  
“No, never needed one. Everyone just calls him Heste.”

Anna doesn't agree with that. That would be like everyone calling her Girl because she was a girl, or Papa Man because he was a man. She thinks for a long moment, scuffing the toes of her riding boots on the wooden stall door, chewing rather unladylike on her bottom lip. 

“What do you think, Princess?”

“I can ride him?”

“If you wish. You'll have to ride him like a real horse, though. No more round pen in the back yard.” The stable master's warning is congenial. He's smiling beneath his salt and pepper whiskers. Anna is smiling too. Heste decides to come over and take a look. His soft nose fits just beneath the outstretched cup of her palm.

Later that week, she tries to explain to Elsa the thrill of being on horseback during a quiet moment in their lessons. Her sister seems more focused on her penmanship exercise than actually listening, but Anna doesn't let that stop her. She draws idle circles along the borders of her parchment as she rambles.

“Oh, Elsa, he's beautiful, all black and shining and big, so big, way bigger than Hoppy, you remember Hoppy right? He was my little pony that someone brought from up the mountainside, maybe he helped haul the ice, or maybe one of his parents did because really he's too small and fat for an ice sled, right-”

“Anna, you're wasting ink.” Elsa gently admonishes. Her eyes flick down to Anna's blotted parchment then back towards the partially open door where the tutor scurried out of just a few minutes earlier. The tutor makes everyone nervous, but Anna doesn't understand why Elsa always gets so anxious when he takes his breaks. She acts like something terrible is going to happen in his absence, which is ridiculous since terrible things were more likely to happen in his presence instead. 

“Why don't you have a horse? Don't you like them? Why don't you learn how to ride too-” She's talking so much she doesn't notice the sudden cool breeze in the room, as if someone has opened a window. The tutor returns a heartbeat later. He nearly explodes when he sees Anna's artwork. She's assigned double the penmanship exercises and an extra essay to boot for her disobedience. When he turns his back, she sticks her tongue out at his prim coattails, rewarded when he suddenly slips on the parquet floor. It takes him a moment to regain his balance. He grips the edge of the desk and lets loose a flurry of slurred curses as his buckled shoes seek purchase on a small patch of ice.

Anna much prefers her riding lessons to her school lessons, even if the riding lessons have taken a somewhat nerve-wracking turn. The first day she's seated on Heste's back, the stable master leads her out into the courtyard. It's empty, as usual, save for Papa, Mama and Kai waiting on the top steps in the shade. She offers them a little wave as she takes up the reins from the stable master. Heste shifts beneath her. The movement makes her take the reins a bit tighter, which makes Heste pull harder, until he's going in agitated little circles.

“What do I do?” She calls out as his back end begins to twitch.

“Loosen your reins.” The stable master calls out. She shakily lets Heste have his mouth back and he calms down somewhat. Unlike Hoppy, she doesn't have to convince Heste to move. She barely has to squeeze his sides before he's off to a brisk pace. He's all business. She wants to trot and he moves out with little argument. His gait is smooth and elevated. She begins to bounce in the saddle, unused to the faster pace. The stable master explains the concept of posting, miming the act of rising up and down gently with the rise and fall of Heste's inside leg. It takes her a few rounds until she falls in sync and its like a puzzle piece has fallen into place. She laughs as Heste snorts and prances a little more, feeding off of her excitement.

“Easy, Anna.” Mama warns as she passes, posting in the saddle as if she's always done so.

“Let her go, dear.” She hears Papa reply. 

“She's going too fast-” But Anna knows she isn't. She easily directs Heste to switch direction. His elegant neck bends as he circles back around, hooves beating out a sharp beat on the stones. The stable master directs as needed, but she sees him offer a somewhat helpless gesture towards Papa when she urges Heste into an easy canter. 

When the lesson is over, Anna helps the stable master take Heste back to the barn. She helps him untack and brush off the sweat and grime and he even lets her fill the water bucket. It's hard work. She has to stop a few times. Each time, water sloshes over the sides and socks her stockings. The stable master has to help her lift the bucket to pour into Heste's trough. By the time she's done, she's in sore need of a bath and a brushing herself, but she can't help the beam on her face as she skips her way back up to the castle. Excitement courses through her. Riding lessons were so much better than arithmetic or calligraphy or geography. She was good at riding, much better than reciting her multiplication tables.

“I don't like it.” Anna stops short on her way to Elsa's room. It was rare to get ahold of her once Elsa retreated back into solitude after their shared lessons, but she's almost full to bursting and she can't hold it inside. She passes Papa's study on the way when she hears her Mama's voice, low and worried.

“Look how happy it makes her-”

“It's dangerous.”

“She has to learn to ride at some point.” Anna peers into the room, at her parents' shadows, excitement slowly dying in the hollow pit of her stomach as Mama continues to argue. She doesn't want Anna to ride as much anymore, she doesn't like how much time she's been spending in the stables. Papa doesn't agree. He thinks its good that Anna is getting outside of the castle, is spending less and less time bothering Elsa. Anna hides a little gasp behind her hand.

“It isn't good for her to always be hanging around Elsa's room. If this keeps her busy and let's Elsa focus more on what she needs to focus on, how is that a bad thing?”

 

Of course, Mama was right. Horseback riding was dangerous, as Anna would come to find out. Even if Hoppy had ended up being a bit more ornery and decided to buck or rear, she wouldn't have had a very long fall to the ground. Heste is much bigger and not quite as forgiving. 

One day, after a frustrating session with Elsa and the tutor, Anna finds herself short and ill-tempered. Her face is still flushed when she shows up for her lesson with the stable master. He doesn't say a word as she begins to tack Heste a touch rougher than normal. Heste notices as well. He snorts unhappily as she tightens his girth sharply. What did it matter if Anna could not spell as well as Elsa, or complete her mathematics test as quickly? Just because she didn't have a mind for those things did not mean she wasn't just as capable, just as worthy of a title. In her minds' eye, she sees the tutor sniffing at each mistake and hears his snide little remark as they pack their books and parchments for the day.

That's why she will be Queen someday, Anna, and you will always be her little Princess.

It's her fault for letting that awful excuse of a man get to her, and she knows it, even as she lets her anger boil over when Heste simply will not stay along the edge of the courtyard. The third time he continues to drift in towards the center, she reins him tightly back and digs in her left heel between his large ribs. Heste does not agree. He begins to stamp and hop and before she can react, he's spun sideways and sent her flying to the stones. Its all so quick. She doesn't remember hitting her head or the few seconds after when the stable master hauled her to her feet and pressed a hand to her split eyebrow.

She does remember the awful feeling when Papa and Mama stand in her bedroom later that evening. The urgency has worn off. The doctor sits on a little stool at her bedside and carefully stitches the wound above her right eye. His spectacles give him an owlish look, the lenses making his eyes bulge and warp as he turns this way and that, inspecting his precise work. Mama is glaring at Papa who is simply watching the doctor as he finishes. 

“There you are, Princess.” He says when done, turning her chin to inspect the neat little line of thread. “We'll have those out in a week or so. Shouldn't even be a scar.” He nods to Papa and Mama as he shuffles out, bag in tow. The door clicks behind him. The sound is like a signal. Mama jumps to her feet from the arm chair across from Anna's bed.

“There are to be no more riding lessons.” She says with finality. Anna cries out in surprise.

“What?”

“There are to be no more riding lessons.” Mama repeats. “That horse is to be sold and you are to re-focus on your other studies. Am I clear?”

“No, Mama, it was one fall and it was all my fault! Really, I was doing something I wasn't supposed to. Ask the stable master-”

“We've already spoken with the stable master.” Mama continues. “You know how to ride, Anna. Now its time you know how to be a Princess.” Anna can't help it. She begins to sob. It's like losing Hoppy all over again, except this time there is no Heste to replace him.

“Don't sell him, please don't sell Heste. I promise I won't ride him again, but please don't sell him.” 

In the end, Mama and Papa agree to allow Heste to remain in the stable. Its small comfort. Anna misses him in the long, boring hours spent with the tutor. She now has extra lessons with him, away from Elsa, who is taking on advanced coursework. When she gathers her things to leave, dismissed to her room while the tutor prepares for Anna's private studies, she offers Anna an apologetic smile. Anna wants to turn away, wants to take her unhappiness out one someone, but finds she can't when she already sees so little of Elsa. She remembers Papa's words, all those months ago in the study, about distracting her sister as it was. So she simply smiles back, perhaps a bit too widely, until Elsa is out of the room and then lets it drop into a rather unhappy and sour frown. 

It's in the middle of a very hard winter when Heste and the stable master pass, both within days of each other. Anna sneaks out in her winter cape and boots to his empty stall after Papa breaks the sad news. The bedding has already been changed. His hay bag already reallocated to a different horse. The stall reminds her of the castle, once bustling with corded energy, now a shell and she crumbles to a messy heap on the cold, stone floor. The stable master finds her there, choking down a rough and raspy cough. He escorts her back to the castle, muttering short words of comfort.

“Now, now, Anna, Heste was older and it's been very cold. He went in his sleep, best way for an old horse like him. Don't feel bad now, we'll look at getting you a nice little Fjord pony, if your Mama approves.”

She hugs him when they meet Kai at the back door, burying her face into the leather tunic he always wore. He smelled like Heste, horse hair, hay, and the somewhat disagreeable but comforting smell of manure and bedding. The stable master doesn't hug her back, but he does lay a large, cold hand over the top of her head. It wouldn't be until later that week that she would hear Kai and Gerda gently whispering about his death and once again be pitted into a sorrowful cloud of loss.

The thought of horses and riding is lost for many years as Papa and Mama's attention steadily fixes on Elsa. Anna can't explain it. She's been doing much better in her studies. Even the tutor is impressed and says so often. She doesn't appreciate his awed tone, but she does thank her stars that at least he's seeing her improvement. Mama is pleased, but in a distracted way, when Anna shows her the grades she received on her last test.

“Yes, yes, dear-”

“Mama, I was thinking maybe now would be the time to talk about-”

“Not now, Anna.” Mama kisses her forehead and takes off towards Elsa's room, where Anna can just hear the lowered voice of Papa. Mama disappears inside and Anna does not see her again until later that evening, after dinner has been served, and her and Papa are hurrying to the dinner table. They look tired, worried, though Papa smiles at her as he takes his place at the head of the table. Her own concern keeps her from asking about a horse.

And prevents her from bringing up the subject for many years as she watches Papa and Mama's weariness grow and Elsa's distance blossom into full isolation. She never sees Elsa anymore, not even during dancing and etiquette lessons with the governess. When she asks, Papa simply tells her that Elsa is very busy and she mustn't be bothered. Mama agrees, eyes clouded and sad. She hears them talking about their upcoming diplomatic voyage over evening tea. They're worried about leaving Elsa, what to tell the servants to do in their absence. Anna listens only for a few minutes before escaping to the stables, to Heste's still empty stall.

There are only a few horses left in the stables now. Mama and Papa no longer travel by horseback but by carriage, sled or boat. Anna misses the sounds of a full barn, the pawing, snorting, swishing of tails. She curls up against the stall door and imagines riding out of the castle gates on Heste's glistening form, escaping up into the mountains where there were no walls, no doors, no tutors or governesses. Maybe, once Elsa was properly trained and the windows were open, Mama and Papa would let her ride again, might even let her go out into town. She dreams and wishes, idly playing with an old, grimy length of lead rope.

Anna is not gifted her third horse until after her parent's death. The castle had been a trap for her before, but now it was almost suffocating in its stillness. The silence often overwhelms her and she resorts to literally climbing the walls to alleviate the heavy pressure pushing on her chest when she wakes and once again realizes there is no more Mama and Papa. She's never considered herself graceful, but Anna makes it up to the roof every morning without fail or incident. The sun over the horizon warms her body, lightens her heart for a small moment, before she hears Gerda calling for her through her locked bedroom door. The days wear on and on towards Elsa's coronation, the one small gleaming moment that Anna awaits more than anything else.

As the days draw closer, the castle begins to hum to life once more. Dignitaries, lords, and dukes begin to send gifts ahead of their arrival. Bolts of fine silks, golden lamps and urns, flowers on top of mountains of flowers arrive at the gates with every ship that sails into the harbor. Anna helps Gerda organize each shipment, greedily taking in every gift and offering with awe. They're all for Elsa but Elsa doesn't seem to have any interest. A room is set aside for the presents, except one. 

A stall is prepared for a fine grey Fjord pony offered by the foremost breeder in Arendelle. Anna watches from the courtyard steps as she is brought in, harnessed in fine silver filigree and tinkling bells. One of the stable boys comes up to take her. Anna watches as she is lead away, heart sinking behind her ribs. A familiar pang runs through her as the pony lifts her head and neighs loudly. Elsa doesn't even ride, yet she's being gifted with one of the finest animals the stable has ever had the privilege to house. She finds it difficult not to be jealous.

“Anna?” Gerda finds her the following day practicing her dance steps in the empty ball room. Anna clears her throat, finding it a bit embarrassing to be caught in step with an invisible (and handsome) dance partner. Gerda doesn't mention it. She smiles and bows quickly.

“What is it?” Anna asks, feeling her curiosity grow as Gerda takes her by the hand and begins to lead her out to the courtyard.

“Your sister has given you a present.”

“My...what?” Anna hasn't spoken to Elsa in weeks, though it feels like longer. Her curiosity is quickly replaced by stunned bemusement as Gerda throws open the doors and reveals a fully saddled, beautiful grey Fjord pony.

“Your horse, m'lady.” Kai announces with a wide smile. Anna waits a brief moment before exploding with joy. Her shrieks startle the fjord pony, who snorts and stares at her like she's grown horns. Anna doesn't care. She bounces down the steps and grabs the lead rope from the stable boy, laughing through tears of joy as she inspects the pony. She runs her hands greedily over its fine coat, over its large head, the doe eyes. The fjord pony settles and leans into her touch, eager to be groomed. It slurps her palm when she holds out a peppermint. She begins to lead the pony around the courtyard. The stable boy remarks on her confirmation. Kai and Gerda share a happy look. And Anna looks up at the peaked castle roof where Elsa is framed, watching the goings on below.

Anna loves being in the stable now that Heste's stalls is once again filled and alive. She tries to brush Stjerne every day and ride her a few times a week, though with all the clamor from the coronation and Elsa's new courtyard ice rink, finding time to ride can be a bit difficult. She follows Kristoff and Sven out on their local deliveries when the two return from harvesting. Once, she even challenges Kristoff to a race, which she and Stjerne win easily. He smiles widely when she reins in beside him, flushed and winded from galloping along the edge of the fjord. 

“You're way better at riding a horse than you are walking.” He teases as they make their way back to the castle. “I didn't realize princesses got riding lessons.”

“Well, not all of us do.” Anna thinks of Elsa inside the castle, cooped up in Papa's study with decrees and petitions and scrolls on top of scrolls.

That evening, after dinner, when she's about to accompany Kristoff for one last trip to the stables, Anna pauses in the doorway. Kristoff is talking idly about the quality of the carrots the kitchen stocks, eyeing one large orange vegetable in his hand and hefting the bag of its brethren higher on his shoulder. She smiles and turns back into the dining hall where Elsa is finishing up her single slice of chocolate cheesecake. She looks up at Anna bemused.

“Is something wrong?” She watches with a raised eyebrow as Anna rushes back to her seat and grabs her elbow. “Anna-”

“Come to the stable with us. It's time you met Stjerne!” Elsa resists somewhat, but Anna wins in the end. She pulls her sister out into the hallway. Kristoff is waiting at the door, smiling when he sees the pair come into view.

“We've got a crowd tonight, huh?” He opens the door for the sisters and lets them walk ahead of him.

“I don't know about this.” Elsa whispers as they draw closer. “I've never been in the stables.”

“Then its about time you pay a visit.” Anna says gently but firmly. She tightens her old on Elsa's arm as they turn into the open barn doors, the smell of horse and grain hitting them full on. The gaslights hang carefully in the middle of the aisle, covering everything in a warm yellow glow. Stjerne and Sven, stalled beside one another, peek their heads out over their doors and call in their respective voices.

“Hey buddy, look what I brought!” Kristoff immediately offers Sven his own carrot. The reindeer clamps down it happily, snapping off a good chunk off. Kristoff gives the other half to Stjerne. Anna brings Elsa close as her pony continues eating.

“You remember her, right?”

“Of course.” Elsa tentatively holds a hand out to Stjerne. She wastes no time in lapping at her palm, causing Elsa to laugh and grimace.

“She likes you!” Anna reaches up to scratch a spot behind Stjerene's ear and the pony leans into her touch. Elsa is emboldened at this statement. She slides her palm underneath Stjerne's jaw, then around to her neck. Her smile widens when Stjerne leans way from Anna and into Elsa, nosing her cheek gently.

“She probably wants a peppermint.” Kristoff presents a pair from his pocket, one to Elsa and one to Anna. Elsa hesitantly takes the treat.

“How do I feed her?”

“Like this!” Anna lays her palm flat out beneath Stjerne's flapping lips. The pony sucks up the peppermint hapily. Elsa follows suit, laughing when she continues to lave her outstretched hand. 

“Maybe she'll let you ride her one day.” Anna mentions, glancing up towards Kristoff, then back at Elsa, who looks both terrified and excited at the idea.

**Author's Note:**

> So, this began as more of a writing exercise to get me back in the mood, and kind of turned into a pointless little exploration about Anna and her fjord pony. I'm a horse person myself, had horses almost all my life, and I love a princess that can ride, so I might have made up a few headcanons about Anna getting lessons.


End file.
